


the disappearing act

by hawkinzclub, stefanoharrington (hawkinzclub)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cop Steve, Eleven | Jane Hopper Needs A Hug, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, here i am giving it to you, i have been thinking about this, over use of italics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkinzclub/pseuds/hawkinzclub, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkinzclub/pseuds/stefanoharrington
Summary: A rookie detective. An attitude ridden jock. A grumpy old man. Crazy lady. A party of best friends.All different people at different points in life.And the universe has made a point to kick each one of their asses.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party, Will Byers & Eleven | Jane Hopper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	the disappearing act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rookie detective. An attitude ridden jock. A grumpy old man. Crazy lady. A party of best friends.
> 
> All different people at different points in life. 
> 
> And the universe has made a point to kick each one of their asses.

**~~ the disappearing act ~~ **

**Hawkins Police Department**

There’s just something so  beautiful about the way things didn’t work out for him. Just three years ago he expected his life to go a completely different way. He was the star basketball player of Hawkins High School. The granted ability for him to throw a ball into a basket was his one and only shot at getting out of that place. He wasn’t smart by any means, but if his mother were here she would just say he “ _doesn’t apply himself_ ” or whatever that means. She would pat his cheeks like he was five, and she’d rub his hair. She said that he was smart, he just had to  _try a little harder stefano_.

So, he tried. He tried and the universe itself should have manifested into a human being and kicked his ass, because that’s exactly what happened. Trying harder, applying himself. It only made things worse. And sure, it wasn’t his mother’s fault. But the bad stuff didn’t start until he upset the balance and tried to be anything else other than a dumb jock.

Studying became his routine every night instead of partying. He stuck his nose in a book, and kept his ass stuck to a chair in the library. Then Billy Hargrove came along, and stuck his nose in Steve’s life. He became the new star of the basketball team, and suddenly Coach Dane starting cutting his practice hours. Then, he was on the bench. At first Steve didn’t notice, he’d kept getting B’s after B’s and sometimes a few A’s. He didn’t notice until exam season crept along, and those tests that came every week started to come every two weeks. It was then, when he didn’t have to study as much that he started to notice. It wasn’t until he had forgotten he had a basketball game and missed it; and his coach didn’t even care.

That scholarship was slowly slipping through his hands.

And just as he had turned 18, his mother died.

Just like that scholarship, Steve slipped right through the cracks, and he just kept going down.

A drunk driver who had just left one of the most  _rockin_ ’ parties in Hawkins that year.

And the drunk driver of that car, he survived. Steve can still picture that blue paint that transferred to his mother’s black car. He can still picture them ripping her car open like a cardboard box and pulling her body out.

He can remember Neil Hargrove packing up his entire family and moving away three days later.

In a way, the universe did manifest into a person. And that person was Billy Hargrove. Billy Hargrove, like a pen that burst and his toxic ink seeped into the halls of Hawkins High, and into the empty spaces in his life. A stain of Steve's once perfect piece of paper. Mark by mark, Billy ruined him, and his life. He just had to  take, and  take, and  _take_. He took his status, his popularity, tried to take his girl. And as if  that wasn't enough, as if the icing wasn't enough on the cake, he had to take his mom too. The one person who gave him everything had to get wiped out by a piece of garbage. And Billy escaped it all. He moved away and left his dirt behind.

Just give Steve _five_ _minutes_ and he'll-

“Hey, Harrington. Doughnut?”

Steve drops the pencil in his hand, his thoughts shaking him. “N-no thanks, I'm good.”

Instead of being a pro basketball player, he’s a rookie detective who would do anything to hurt the one man that's been on his mind for three years.

But, his father sure as hell wasn’t going to give him a job. That’s another person he hadn’t seen in years. He was on another business trip when his mom died, and instead of flying back home to help plan her funeral.. He left Steve to bury his mother on his own. And he never came back.

He hears heavy footsteps weigh heavy on the broken floorboards of the Hawkins Police Department. Steve picks his pencil back up and twirls it around. Chief Jacobs stands directly behind him. “Don’t pretend like you’re doing somethin’ Harrington.” He sinks his teeth into a most likely old doughnut, “There’s someone on the line for you.” The crumbs fall out of his mouth when he speaks and some get stuck in his beard.

Steve stands up and clears his throat and sends the chief a nod. Just as he reaches the phone, the chief calls out.

“And close the fuckin’ door Harrington, you talk too damn loud!”

He tries to ignore the chuckles of his fellow officers as the door shuts.

He grabs the phone and presses line one. He listens in just for a few seconds to make sure Jacobs isn’t listening on the other end. As he tries to listen out for the man's ragged and smoke ridden breathing, someone talks.

"Uh, hello?"

Steve clears his throat again and pulls the chair closer so he can sit down, "Uh yeah?" He tries to piece together who it could be, but he can't quite put it together.

The voice speaks again. "Is this Steve Harrington?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"It's Dustin."

Steve rests his chin on his hand, his jitters causing the phone to shake slightly, "I- I don't know a Dustin."

"No, yeah, um. You- you used to babysit me, or whatever, when you were in high school."

He sits back in the chair as he thinks back to the horrifying blur that was his high school life. There were some good parts, like the partying, and the girls. Lots of girls, like, a plethora. He remembers one girl in particular. Sometimes, in a daze when he thinks about what his life could have been, he thinks about her. Her brown hair, with bits of blonde in it. Her big blue eyes that always seemed to tell when something was up. She made him shift a little. He went from mean dumb jock to nice dumb jock. It was a cliche story of the so called good girl who falls in love with the star athlete of the school. He doesn't like to think about it much, but her falling out of love with him started it all. The downfall of King Steve. Regular Steve showed up, lost his girl to a recluse and lost of all his friends, lost his scholarships. He lost everything. Maybe he wasn't authentic enough for her. Jonathan Byers with the camera and kind eyes was more her speed. He had a brother. Maybe that was Steve's problem, he didn't know how to care for anyone. He didn't have a brother like Byers did, or like Nancy did.

And sometimes he jus-

Wait .

He grips the phone tighter as the few cells in his brain finally work," _Dustin Henderson_ ?"

The kid speaks again and this time when he talks Steve can hear the slight lisp that has gotten better as he's grown up, "Yeah! It's me, Dustin."

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, "Wow, I never thought I'd hear from you again. Everyone just like, up and moved to Chicago one year and never looked back."

Dustin chuckles over the phone, "Lots of jobs here."

Steve clears his throat again, "Yeah."

There's silence for a few seconds, and Steve toys with the curly cord of the phone as he searches for something to say. "So, what's up?"

He can hear a bit of shuffling, and Steve doesn't like the way that Dustin's voice changes, "It's my friend, he's missing." He breathes heavily and Steve is quiet as he lets him talk, "It happened so fast. We were all at our friend Max's house..."

**One week ago **

"Did you eat the last fucking twix?!"

"No, that was Dustin!"

Dustin reaches over and slaps Mike on the head. "No I didn't, asshole!"

"Well _someone_ did! And that last one was mine you shitheads!" Max throws the cupboard open, hoping that it wasn't the last one.

Mike gets up from the table with a bag of peanuts in his hand. "I thought Lucas was buying more."

"Why does it have to be  me?"

"You  agreed to do it when you got a car," Mike says as he throws a peanut at Lucas' head.

"Yeah, but that was before two other party members, including  _you_ , got a car!"

" _That was before two other party members got a car_ !" Mike repeats in a mocking tone.

Max rips the bag of peanuts out of Mike's hands and starts eating handfuls. He tries to take it back but she walks towards the door, "Between the three of you, someone better go get my twix!"

A foot slams against the screen door, creating an even bigger crater, "Shut up, shitbird!"

Max bangs her fist against the door even harder, "Fuck you, Billy!"

“If it’ll get you to stop arguing, then I’ll go.”

They all stare at each other. Mike speaks first, his tone becoming softer than usual.

”Are you sure, Will?”

He just shrugs, looking like little Byers nearly a decade ago. “Yeah. I mean - it’s just down the street right?”

Max moves closer to him, “Yeah, but it’s kinda dark out.”

”We can just get some more tomorrow.” Lucas smiles at Will from the couch.

Will returns it, but just for a second, “Guys, I’ll be fine. It’s just down the street.”

**Present **

”We thought - we all thought he would be okay. Billy was on the porch. He was right there, he was going to watch him.”

Steve’s silent on the other end, that name sending warning signals and suddenly he's almost tearing the curly phone chord.

With a shaky sigh, Dustin continues.

”It was like we knew something was wrong. Letting him go alone, all by himself. It felt weird,” Steve can tell that Dustin changes the way he’s sitting, and in that he can hear the too early signs of tiredness in the way he sighs.

”After about - fifteen minutes, we all grabbed some flashlights, ready to look for him. We went to get Billy, too, but when we got outside...He wasn’t there. We thought that maybe he went to look for him.”

Steve clears his throat, suddenly feeling uneasy as the sun hides behind the clouds and blankets him in a temporary darkness. “Well, did he?”

”No. When we made it to the store, neither one of them were there. We drove back to Max’s house and called the police. They came pretty fast, considering it’s Chicago.”

”How fast?” Steve asks.

”Like, four minutes.”

”Four minutes? In  _Chicago_?”

Dustin starts speaking faster, and his words start blending together. Steve remembers now, how he had to learn to keep up with it.

”It was  _so_ fucking weird like — like they  _knew_ we were going to call. They got there and they were acting all shady and shit.”

”Shady how?”

”They were walking around Max’s house like he was _hiding_ in there or something, and they barely asked us any questions.”

Steve chuckled a bit, “Well, some police are a little stupid. But, maybe they didn’t have a lot to go on?”

Dustin breathes hard, “Ugh, please don’t do that brothers in blue shit.”

”I’m not,  I’m _not_! Just saying, man.”

”Listen, Steve.”

” _ Listening _ .”

”Something is wrong, like really. I went down to the station a few days after, and there were over fifty seven 911 calls in that same hour. And, according to the lady at the front desk,  all of their men were dispatched.”

Steve’s quiet for a moment as he pieces it together. “So, how could they get to you in four minutes?”

”Exactly.”

”Listen Dustin, I want to help. I do, but, I don’t really know if I can.”

” _TheyarrestedBillyonchargesofkidnapping_.”

Steve jumps in his seat a little, “Woah kid -  what? Slow down.”

”They arrested Billy for kidnapping, Steve.”

And suddenly, every reason he had in his mind to not go went down the drain. Any chance he gets to take Billy Hargrove all the way down to the grave, he’ll take it.

”Billy? For kidnapping?” His voice was edged with a dangerous sliver of hope. A hope that only a desperate man can muster. A hope that Billy Hargrove would finally get what he deserved.

Dustin clears his throat, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. A few days later they went searching in the woods, and they found him. They found him covered in blood.”

"Using my pain against me, huh?"

" _Please_ , we need help."

He pats around the desk and grabs a tablet and pen, “Tell me your address.”

**One day before the flight **

Steve's never really packed for a trip before. 

Whenever his family would leave for business trips, he would always stay home and watch the house. He would stay home and watch a house that's smack in the middle of a town where nothing ever happens. A house that used to be full of people whenever his parents were gone. The crowd in his house became as nonexistent as the friends he had. He knows why he didn't go. The story was in his mother's eyes. The yearning, the apologies for feeling like she was never there for him. It took him a while to understand. He became defiant, rude, and distant from her. The day his father came back from Italy, and she didn't, he had become even more angry with her. And his father's words only made it worse, it only made him feel more alone. When she returned, she came home with a different light in her eyes. A light that he had never seen shone on his mother's face. She had cooked for days, the house smelled of what he thought Italy would be like. He wouldn't know really. What he does know is that the day he watched his mother get lowered into her grave, is when he figured it out.

His mother still saw a light in her only son, and she knew that him spending any unnecessary time with his drunken mess of a father would ruin him. It would dim him. Sometimes, when he's having one of those days, he blames her. Because even though she tried, he was still left in the dark.

Maybe the universe wasn't just Billy, it was his mother's death too.

"Steve, you listening buddy?"

He jumps out of his skin at the sudden voice in his ears, and realizes he's on the phone. He's wandered all the way into the kitchen, and if he had just gone a few more feet, the cord would've snatched the phone back.

"Yeah - yeah sorry."

Dustin pops another piece of candy into his mouth and his voice sounds unhuman coming through the phone, "So anyways. My mom was saying that since you're coming to help, you can stay with us."

"No, man no," Steve walks forward a bit, but is lightly tugged by the cord. "Dude, I haven't seen you or your mom in  years."

"Listen _dude_ , all the moms aren't going to rest until you come stay with one of us. They wanna see  _King_ _Steve_ in all of his grown man glory."

Pacing around the house, he passes by a picture of his mother, "Yeah well, King Steve's not so much a king anymore."

"Well you're  Detective Steve now. Both my mom and Will's mom are like fighting over who gets to keep you."

And Steve doesn't know this here, the severity of his choice and how much it would change his life. He doesn't know that when he makes this choice he will feel things he never has before.

"Oh."

Dustin doesn't respond, Steve can only hear the candy knocking around against his teeth.

"T- tell Joyce -- Tell her I'm coming."

** Chicago **

It's been a week.

She's been floating in this space. A space in which she knows her son is there - but she can't see him. She can't touch him, or hear his voice but he's _there_. 

It's been a week of her getting chills in her house, a week of her zoning out and getting lost, a week of her sitting in Will's room and straining her ears because she swore that she heard  something. Jonathan says that she's paranoid, as she should be. And Nancy would sit and listen to her ramble on and on, but then Joyce caught that look in Nancy's big eyes that saw right through you. Eventually, Joyce stopped ranting to her. The way Nancy looked at her, trying to fulfill the emotional support that Jonathan couldn't - it became too much.

It's been a week and yet it feels as if it's been months. 

"Joyce, you there?"

She breaks and looks up at the face in front of her. "What?"

"You're burning a hole in your couch."

It's like all her senses come back to her one at a time. She doesn't know where she goes when she goes, but it consumes her completely. Her children are the two halves that make her whole, and she lost one. Now she's just a half person, with half feelings. Maybe she has half of a brain now too, maybe that's why she loses herself sometimes. Maybe that's why she loses time and burns holes in her couch.

"Oh,  _shit_ ."

Jim reaches for her cig and puts it out in the ashtray for her.

Joyce is just withering away, and day by day she sinks until she goes completely under.

"I'm fine, I - I'm fine."

Hopper leans back against the couch, arm stretching across the length of it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, give me my cigarette back."

He chuckles at her but he does lean forward and light it before handing it over, "Uh, heads up. I heard the kids are coming over here, bringin' some kid with them."

" _What_?"

"Yeah some uh, some kid from - "

Joyce leans up and yanks her cigarette from her mouth, almost choking on the smoke, " _Oh_ , oh. _Steve_!"

"Steve?" He looks at her in shock and a small smile on his face from her little outburst.

"Yeah, Steve Harrington. He used to babysit and hang around with the kids when we lived in Hawkins."

Jim nods along but he doesn't respond. Just looks at her.

"What is it, Hop?"

He smacks his lips and rubs against his beard. "Nothing."

" _Hopper_." She says in her _'tell me what it is right now_ ' voice.

"He's a _rookie_ , Joyce."

” _Hopper_!” She says in her ‘ _i can’t believe you said that, why would you say that_?’ voice. He’s not doing too hot with the whole talking thing.

He puts his hands up in surrender, “I’m just saying, Joyce. We’re already doing all we can out here. What’s a twenty one year old rookie gonna do?”

She gets up and heads to the kitchen, shaking her head at him all the while. “I hope you won’t call him a rookie when he gets here.”

”What’s he gonna _do_ , Joyce?”

”He can - what are you always saying? A fresh pair of eyes always helps a case or something?”

“Yes, an _experienced_ pair of eyes.”

She slams the refrigerator shut and puts her cigarette out on the counter. He wished she wouldn’t do that. She looks at him, that faraway look in her eyes she’s been getting lately. Like she’s lost in her mind. Lost, somewhere.

”Hopper. I don’t care. I - I _need_ this. My _son_ needs this.”

He gets up too, just as determined. “And that’s why I want the best.”

She gets a look, one that says she’s done with him for today. “Yeah. You already have the best, and you still haven’t found my boy.” 

Then she leaves the room. 

And it wasn’t fair of her, to say that to him. But he’s not gonna, tell her off or anything. He knows what it’s like to lose something. Knows what it’s like to feel hatred towards everything cause you can’t have what you really want. What you really need.

His loss was, slow. Crushing. Watched his little girl disappear right in front of him. But he thinks that the reason he’s somewhat sane now, is because he got to see her. To be with her in the beginning of her last moments. By her side, telling her that it was all going to be okay. When it wasn’t.

Joyce doesn’t have that. She doesn’t get to watch her son fall. Doesn’t have a chance to try and catch him before he hits the solid ground, hard and fast.

He gets up, goes to apologize through the door for the third time this week. The same mantra. "Sorry, Joyce. Y'know I didn't meant that. You know I didn't." Because she does know. Then he waits for some time. She'll open the door, look at him. And then everything is okay. Between them at least.

The phone rings. Vibrating off of the wall.

"Yeah." He says answering.

"Uh, is uh- the chief there?"

"Yeah. Yeah I answered, didn't I?"

He can tell who's on the phone. Jaren Green, definitely not on the case. Definitely at the desk. "Uh, sorry chief. There's some uh - kid here for ya. Says he's helping on the Byers case." (Hopper wants to strangle him, he whispered that last part.)

"Why are you whisperin', Jaren?"

"Uh, don't know chief. He uh - he's here for ya. The kid, uh. A Stephen maybe? I can't really remember chief. Y'know that accident got ta' me real bad, chief and I uh -"

"Yeah, okay Jaren. Okay, I'll be down there. M' leaving now." And he hangs up. Doesn't leave any room for Jaren to talk his ear off anymore.

He decides to leave a note for Joyce. He'll have to stand outside of her door another day.

 ** Chicago ** **Police Dept.**

Chief Jim Hopper walks into the department, looking out of place in his day clothes. What Joyce calls a “cutting edge” shirt and his blue jeans with just one hole on the left knee. He’s not a degenerate.

There’s chaos and phones flying off the hook, but it doesn’t startle him. It’s an everyday day thing here. 

He spots Jaren fiddling at his desk, probably doing nothing. Jim makes a point to come up behind him, startling him.

”Aw hell, Chief. Why you gotta go and do me like that?” He asks, whining like a child.

”Get up off your ass Jaren, there’s something around here for you to do.”

Jaren nods vigorously and stands up, leaning on his bad leg like an idiot. “I hear ya chief but uh, whenever I try and do somethin’ they always shoo me away. Like uh - shoo Jaren!”

Jim decides he doesn’t want to comment on any of that. “Alright, Jaren just sit back down and tell where the kid is.”

”Oh, Stefan? He’s in your office, chief.”

He almost tells Jaren that he can’t just send people in his office. That they have a waiting room for a reason. But he’s already wasted enough time. He leaves Jaren with a memorable pat on the shoulder and heads down the stale hallway to his office, all the way at the end.

Before he’d left, he had called Flo and asked for any information on this guy. And Jim is pretty sure that he’s right about this kid. Just some rookie wasting space in his investigation.

He barges in, hoping to see the kid flinch but he doesn’t even move. Jim thinks he’s asleep.

”Hey, kid. Wake up.”

He didn’t think he’d left him waiting that long. But there’s no telling how long he had been in here with Jaren taking control of it. But anyhow, this guy shouldn’t be sleeping -

“I’m not asleep.”

Jim just hums at him and sits down at his desk across from.

Tall kid, big poofy and obviously carefully styled hair. He’s probably a douchebag. Maybe even a little sweet, but Jim’s not gonna have an opinion on that today.

”Steve Harrington, is it?”

He clears his throat and nods, “Yes sir.”

Jim nods and doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. Waits him out.

The kid leans forward, a little eager. A little ready. “So uh, will you tell me a little more about the cas -“

”Listen, kid,” Jim interrupts him. Leans all the way back in his chair and kicks his feet up. Dirt and hard mud falling onto the desk. “I uh - I know why you’re really here.”

”I - I don’t know what you’re talking about? I’m here for the case.”

Jim just, stares at him. Long, cold. Wants him to know that he's unwelcome. That Jim doesn't need him, no matter what Joyce says. Wants him to know that he knows. About his past. The real reason why he showed up in the first place.

"You wanna uh, talk to me about Billy Hargrove." And the kid just, looks. Looks at Jim like he didn't just mention the man in his nightmares. The man that he came all the way out here to see.

"No. I'm here to talk to you about Will Byers. I'm here to help Will Byers."

"Or you're here to get revenge."

Steve scoffs at him, reaching for his bag. Almost getting ready to leave. But he leans back in his chair just as Jim thought he was getting ready to high tail it back to Indiana.

"Listen, chief. I uh - Billy Hargrove made my life shift. And uh, I'll admit that I'd do anything to see him get what he deserves," He glances at Jim, a wrinkle between his brows. "But I also know what's important right now. And that's Will Byers. So, if you think I'm gonna jeopardize your case of whatever because of some revenge fantasy, well. I'm not. So." And he waves his hands like ' _there, i've said it_.'

**E** **n route to Chesterton** **Illinois**

He ended up in the chief's jeep. On their way to fucking Chesterton. _Chesterton_.

Steve actually did not know that the place existed up until five minutes ago. The Chief finally decided that he'd talk to Steve like a _human_ instead of a dog that tore up his paperwork. In that, he'd told him that he would take him to see Billy. Which, was not at all what Steve asked for. He wanted to go see Joyce, and Dustin. All the people he'd missed from Hawkins.

And of course Billy had already been questioned, but the Chief said he'd been sitting on lies for about a week. Refusing to do anything other than nod. Maybe he'll come clean. HA! Nice one.

 _And_ they're going to _Chesterton_ PD because the holding cells are full in Chicago. So that's nice. It's really, yeah - nice.

It smells like cigarettes in the jeep. And sweat. And there's blood on the edge of his door handle. "Uh - Chief, you don't really have to drive me all the way out here."

"You gonna drive yourself?"

"No, I'm just saying that, you know, I don't need to talk to Billy."

The Chief - Jim laughs and it's the first time Steve's seen an expression other than anger and gruff on the man's face. "Okay Harrington. I'm not driving you here so you and him can have a heart to heart. I'm _driving_ you here because you're assisting on the case and you need to _question_ him about the _case_."

"Okay, _okay_."

"We're not here to do any of that shit, okay. We are here for the case. I don't want you asking him questions about what went down between him and your mom."

It's Steve's turn to laugh. "What _went_ _down_?! You say that like they got in a fucking silly fight," He turns his whole body to Jim, twisting against his seat belt. "He was _drunk_ and _driving_. He ran a light. And he tore her fucking car to _pieces_. Nothing _went_ _down_ between them - he fucking _killed_ her."

He stares at Jim until he can see a reaction. The man rubs his beard - something he's seen him about twenty times now - and nods a few times.

"Okay, kid. Didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah. I know you didn't. I'm not gonna ask him any fucking questions about it, okay? This isn't about me. It's about Will."

**The Mayfield house - The week of the** ** disappearance **

Will exits the house, pulling his jacket tighter around himself against the slight breeze in the air. The September air was chilling. This time of year in the North, especially in Chicago, September is the start of the wintry air. He walks down the steps and passes Billy, sitting himself against the screen door. Right next to the giant crater he and Max keep adding to. Billy nods at him, blowing cigarette smoke out of his mouth and staring up at him through his eyelashes. Will nods back. Billy had been civil lately, speaking without blurting obscenities or growling at them. He had never expected for all them to be in Chicago with each other. But, maybe the change of scenery did something to Billy. Made him better. Good for one William, he guesses. The only thing Chicago has done for him is made him feel strange. Out of place. Even more so than when they were in Hawkins. Lucas says, that maybe he's not meant to be anywhere. That he's meant to be everywhere at once. Will thinks that maybe he's right. But for now he's on his way to the convenience store down the street.

There's some fallen leaves on the ground. Will makes an effort to step on each one as he makes his way down the street. He'd never say it to their face, but the Mayfield-Hargrove family always seem to find the creepiest street to live on. Deserted, almost. One of two houses scatter around them, but for the most part it looks like a little monster sector. He picks up his pace now that he's freaked himself out. Monsters aren't real anyway.

His feet settle on the concrete pavement of the store. He walks across parking lines and past the pumps and his hand goes cold as he pushes on the glass door. He waves at Robin, his friend at the counter before he goes to the candy aisle. Grabbing a couple of Twix for Max, and a pack of M&M's for himself. Peanut kind. He goes back to the register.

"Hey, little dude. Isn't it kind of late for you to be out right now?" Robin's pretty cool. She moved from New York last year, and she goes to their school. He and her have a lot of things in common. Music, art, and being a little different than most. He likes her.

"Come on, we're like the same age." She rings him up and puts it in the small plastic bag he likes. "I've got two years on you little dude. Hurry and get back to Max's, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay. See you Monday!" He leaves her his change and leaves the store. He goes the same way he came, crossing the white lines and passes the pump. When he gets to the edge, where concrete meets dirt, is when he feels something different. Sees something different. A wave, in the air. Barely noticeable, but he looks real close. Stares at it until it starts moving and he feels compelled to follow it. Max's house scream in the distance, something in him telling him to go there. Not to follow that thing. But his legs follow the wave. Crossing the street, stomping on branches and rocks as he goes through the trees. He can't see the wave anymore, but somehow he still knows where to go. Sill knows that he needs to follow it. Following something important. It feels important. He keeps walking, even though his legs start to feel a little tired. Even though he feels something gross and slimy as he feels on the trees as he walks. The ground becomes different. From solid and grassy to squishy and gooey. He can feel it everywhere now. That important feeling - it doesn't feel so important anymore. He turns around, looking for the lights of the store. Something other than the pure darkness lying await in front of him. He takes a step back and he slips. Falls right on his back. He'd expected pain, something other than that sinking feeling. He's being swallowed by the ground. He scrambles for purchase, reaching at the air. Trying to reach a low hanging branch. But it's just as slippery as the ground that envelops him. He keeps trying, but nature is not on his side. He can't find a grip and there's darkness reaching into his eyes. Going up his nose, covering his face and mouth until he's just.

Gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooOOOOOOOOooOOOOOO!!!
> 
> leave some feedback in the comments!!


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